


Heat of the Moment

by VitaeLampada



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Rescue, Short One Shot, panic on the bridge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:14:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28692300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VitaeLampada/pseuds/VitaeLampada
Summary: A silly little one shot fic inspired, I believe, by a comment made by Emcee on her Spuhura Discord.  Thank you!
Relationships: Spock/Nyota Uhura
Comments: 17
Kudos: 39





	Heat of the Moment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Emcee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emcee/gifts).



"Bridge to Uhura -- do you read?" 

"Her comms link has become unstable, Captain." 

"Explain," Jim demanded. 

Spock replied before Ensign Phan had the chance. 

"Sections of the Iknal Gorge can only be crossed using tunnels excavated by the Deltan colonial government between Stardate 2239 and 2241, and in some of these channels the interior walls have been been reinforced with titanium, thick enough to distort our subspace --," 

"Spock, in the time it's taken you to say all that Uhura could run through the longest one." 

" _Uhura to Bridge_." 

"Thank God," Jim answered. "Uhura, rebel craft are headed your way. If you don't reach the rendezvous point --," 

" _Too late, Captain. Pavel ran ahead to scope. There are vessels already parked inside other tunnel systems. They've got the central canyon surrounded._ " 

"Can you go back?" 

" _They can access tunnel surveillance. They'll see our every move._ " 

Jim tapped the arm of his chair impatiently. Behind him, he heard Spock contact Scotty to ask how quickly he could lock on to the rescue party when they emerged. 

"Commander, we are talking twenty-five people. Even if I synchronise every transporter room on the Enterprise -- which I have, by the way -- the mouth of the Gorge is too narrow. They can't come out all at once. Now we know the rebels are there, with their weapons aimed ...," 

" _Wait_ \--," Uhura called out. Then her channel went quiet -- no static, nothing. Dead.

"Ensign Phan --," Jim spun his chair to face her station. 

"Hailing her, sir. The link hasn’t dropped. Lieutenant Uhura switched off her communicator for some reason." 

At the adjacent station, Spock stood out of his chair. 

"Captain --," 

"-- answer is no, Commander." 

"Jim --," 

"--doesn't matter what you call me, Spock." 

Then, as if Spock wasn’t one overprotective person too many, the turbolift doors opened and McCoy charged at the command chair, waving his tricorder. 

“You said _one_ hour.” 

“If everything went to plan,” Jim explained. 

“Oh right. When were you going to tell me your plan involved boiling Uhura’s blood?” 

“Bones, she’s fine, we’re speaking to her. Or were … Ensign?” 

“Still hailing, sir.” 

“Try Pavel’s communicator.” 

“Jim, human bodies aren’t made for the heat down there.” 

“Bridge to Ensign Chekov --,” 

Spock chimed in. "Vulcan bodies are much better suited. That is why I wish to beam down--,” 

" _Captain! Captain Kirk!_ "

It was Pavel's voice. 

"Chekov," Jim groaned with relief. "Where are you? Is Uhura all right?" 

" _I am with the escape party, sir. Lieutenant Uhura is …, is …,_ ” 

“Is what?” 

“ _Sorry sir. I have not learned enough Iknali to understand what the people are saying …, she’s …,_ ” 

“She’s what?” Jim grit his teeth at the silence. “Pavel, just describe what you see.” 

“ _Yes, Captain. Lieutenant Uhura and the Iknali guide are dividing the escapees into smaller groups._ ” 

You could hear everyone on the bridge breathe out.

“So she’s fine,” Jim said. 

“ _Yes, Captain. And someone is sweeping the floor._ ” 

Sweeping the …? “Weird time for housework, Pavel.” 

“ _Sir, I think there is something under the sand. A hatch_.” 

“Hatch?” 

Spock enlightened them. “There is access within the tunnels to the networks of natural springs.” 

McCoy enlightened them more. “Natural rapids, more like. Remember the intelligence reports? Those waterways are powerful enough to supply hydroelectricity to the rebel bases.” 

“Pavel,” Jim called out, “what’s the plan?” 

Suddenly Uhura’s voice broadcast on the bridge. “ _We’re going to swim our way out._ ” 

“Swim?!” 

“Jim,” McCoy argued, “it’s too dangerous.” 

“I am in accord with Doctor McCoy, Captain.” 

“ _Spock_ ,” Uhura said, because she knew what he was like. “ _The Iknali swim these waters before they can walk. They know where all the streams flow. And the rebels cannot track us. If we get to a location they can’t predict, there may be time to beam us --,_ ” 

“Uhura,” McCoy cut her off, “it’ll be even hotter down there.” 

“ _Yeah,” she said, “I’m feeling it. But that’s our only chance._ ” 

Jim glanced at Spock. His First Officer stood like a man made of stone, face erased of expression. 

“Spock?” 

“Will Doctor McCoy have a medical team ready in the transporter room?” 

“Better than that,” McCoy retorted. “The medical team can deal with the Iknali. Beam Uhura and Pavel directly to the bridge – I'll treat them myself.” 

Consensus reached. Jim assented. Uhura gave a signal before she climbed down the hatch. Spock helped Bones set up stretchers with oxygen supply. Ensign Phan called Nurse Bristow to the bridge. Sulu monitored the arrival of the rebel craft, noted where they stationed themselves in the canyon, and over his map screen superimposed the places around Iknali Gorge where underground streams surfaced. Some were no more than trickles through cracks. Most were calm streams, but there was one white water cascade over dangerous rocks and two falls. 

“I sure hope the Iknali know what they’re doing.” McCoy leaned over Jim’s chair to whisper. That was still loud enough to be overheard by a certain pair of ears. 

“As do I,” Spock replied. 

Then it was worse, because there was nothing to say, nothing to argue about, nothing to decide. Only an agony of waiting. McCoy held his tricorder so that Jim could see how long it had been since the hatch was opened. Spock decided to sit down and devise his own form of distraction, which involved making far too many responsive noises from his workstation touchscreens. 

When he couldn’t stand to hold off any longer, Jim asked Sulu for the distance between the hatch and the furthest watery exit point. 

“How long would it take to get there?” 

“In a straight line,” Sulu said, “and assuming a speed of forty-five kilometers per hour, they ought to have surfaced a couple of minutes ago.” 

“I don’t know of any waterways that run in a straight line,” McCoy said. 

Jim waved a hand at him. 

“Spock?” 

“Captain?” 

“Can you … you know … sense anything?” 

“As you know, Captain, Nyota and I have not established a full psi bond.” 

“Yeah, yeah, but how many mind melds --,” 

“Jim!” McCoy thumped his shoulder. “That’s like asking how many times they’ve --,” 

“All I want is some indication --,” 

“Sir!” Phan cut in, “I’ve got a frequency!” 

Jim punched his comm. “Scotty, can you trace the Ensign’s subspace reading?” 

“Aye. Coming from the mouth of the waterfall. Just got a lock.” 

“And me,” Sulu said, “it’s human. Rapid heartbeat.” 

“Beam up now!” Jim shouted. 

The transporter beam created a blinding pillar of light directly in front of the turbolift. Jim saw Ensign Phan shield her eyes with an arm so she could keep checking for signals. McCoy did the same as he stepped forward with the stretcher. 

Spock turned his chair to the light but otherwise remained still. Too still. 

When the molecules began to reassemble themselves in their new location, Jim frowned. Then he blinked and leaned forward, disbelieving. The final version of Lieutenant Uhura that materialised was conscious, upright and apart from laboured breathing and a friction burn on her left arm, seemed unharmed. 

Of course, nothing but poor health would fluster McCoy. He stood stoically running his tricorder, eyes fixed on the tiny screen. Spock was another matter. Jim felt his own reaction was justified. After all, there was a half Vulcan on the bridge with wide, shocked eyes and slack jaw. 

“Captain,” Nyota gasped, “we’re coming over the rocks single file. Pavel is bringing up the rear.” 

Unfortunate choice of phrase. Jim changed the direction of his gaze, in case he was already staring at something he shouldn’t stare at. 

Finally, Spock found his voice. 

“Lieutenant,” he said, “your apparel …,” 

After a moment, Jim heard Nyota clear her throat. 

“Your apparel is hardly suitable to wear on the bridge.” 

Jim clapped a hand over his mouth, but not soon enough to stifle laughter. Nyota cleared her throat again, louder. 

“Commander, Captain,” she said, “my apparel was chosen to facilitate my work among the Iknali.” 

Even McCoy had to react then. “What was wrong with the bio-suits we issued you?” 

“They were fine on land. But the Iknali spend a lot of time in their aquaducts. I found it practical to carry a change of clothing.” 

Since his eyes were blurred by tears of laughter, Jim felt safe to face her while he wiped away the moisture.

“So you're saying they provided you with … swimwear?” 

More precisely, provided her with a sizzling red string bikini, that really did not leave much to the imagination. 

“No,” Nyota replied. “This is mine. Gaila gave it to me.” 

Enough said. Jim risked a glance at his First Officer. What was Spock thinking? 

Nyota finger combed strands of hair that had worked their way loose from her top knot, a pretty pointless attempt to bring professional decorum to her appearance. 

McCoy’s tricorder beeped. 

“Hum,” the doctor shook his head. “Appears the extremes haven’t done you much harm. You’re in good shape.” 

Jim watched Spock’s head tilt back, and his gaze take a journey from his girlfriend’s tousled hair, down her graceful neck and over her shoulders, travel the length of her wet body that caught and reflected all the lights on the bridge. Her skin was an impressionist painting and Jim would swear that Spock was naming every unique splash of colour. 

Nyota realised she was under study. How could she not? Self-conscious at last, she crossed her legs at the knees. 

“Captain,” she asked, “may I be escorted off the bridge by the Commander to get changed?” 

THE END 


End file.
